Blame It On Dr Sexy
by whithertits
Summary: Sam teaches Cas how to cater to Dean's kinks.  Sam/Dean/Cas.
1. Blame It On Dr Sexy

Warnings: threesome, medical play, D/s

"Let me see your hands," Sam said.

Castiel held out his hands obediently. Sam inspected them briefly, running his thumb along the edge of Castiel's fingertips. "You'll need to file your fingernails before we begin." Letting go of the angel's hands, Sam moved back to his duffle and pulled it open. He looked up and met Castiel's eyes. "Would you prefer to see what we'll be using now, or to watch me use them first?"

Castiel considered the dull shapes of fabric he could see through the opening in Sam's bag. He looked at his own hands and back at Sam again. "I would prefer to become familiar with the tools I'm to use first," he said quietly.

Sam nodded, and opened his bag. He pulled out several folds of fabr ic and a small black case, which he handed to Castiel. "Use the nail file and smooth out any rough edges on your fingernails. They're short enough already."

Castiel opened the bag. Inside was an array of unfamiliar items; he missed the understanding sharing this body with Jimmy had given him. He had neither felt nor heard Jimmy inside their shared body since he had awoken, practically human, after helping Dean go to Michael. His body had not required this degree of upkeep the short amount of time he had been human. He looked at Sam, helpless.

Sam, watching him, chuckled. He reached into the bag. "It's this one." He rubbed the flat, rough tool along the edge of his nail. "Like this."

He left Castiel to continue, and returned to his bag on the next bed. He pulled out the bundles of fabric, and laid them down beside himself. Castiel kept half his attention on smoothing out the edges on his fingernails, the other half watching Sam.

Sam pulled out a small bottle. "Disinfectant," he said. "You won't need to use this most of the time- soap and water are good enough for most of the things we'll be doing. The disinfectant is for the sounds." Sam unfolded the one of the bundles; inside there was a small case with a clear lid. Sam tilted the case to show him the content. "These are sounds. They're inserted into the penis through the urethra." He tapped the bottom of the case. "These ones are curved at the end."

"For the bend into the bladder," Castiel said quietly.

"Exactly," Sam said, smiling. "They come in a variety of sizes. I only use one on Dean- stretching can be dangerous, and the risk hasn't been worth it." He smirked at Castiel. "With you here, we might be able to afford upping the ante a bit."

He reached for the next bundle, and Castiel kept working on his nails.

Dean leaned back on the bed, eyes trained on the TV. Dr. Sexy curled his hand in the blonde nurse's hair before pressing her down onto the examination table. Dean jacked his cock slowly, intent on the screen. He pushed his foreskin down on the down stroke, and ran his finger over the slit in the head as Dr. Sexy laughed and rolled around with the nurse, boots in sharp focus on the screen.

Dean let his head fall back, against the pillows. He couldn't hear the murmur of voices from the other room. He shuddered at what that meant, at what was coming. His hand sped.

He arched his back, fucking into the air. His balls tightened, pulling up tight against his body, and Dean let out a disappointed moan and released his cock: it twitched and drooled a quick spurt of precome onto his belly. His hand fell limply to the side. He thrust his hand up into empty air a few more times, reveling in the faint slide his cock made with the movement.

He stilled after a moment, and was glad of it. The door between his room and the one where Sam was (he resisted a whimper) schooling Cas opened. Castiel stepped through, holding Sam's bag in his hand. Sam followed, and closed the door behind him.

Cas walked over to Dean's bed, and sat beside him. He set Sam's bag down, gently, next to Dean. "Sam explained things to me," he said quietly, and set one hand deliberately on Dean's upper thigh. He met Dean's eyes straight on and said, "You will have to be patient with me."

Dean shuddered to stillness in his skin, the heat of Cas's gaze flushing his skin.

"Start with the speculum," Sam said from the other bed.

Cas reached into the bag obediently and pulled out one of the ridiculous cloth bundles Sammy used for wrapping up the stuff they'd picked up over their time together. Cas unwrapped the bundle carefully, uncovering the stainless steel speculum Sammy'd picked up back in Michigan.

"If you turn onto your knees you'll be more comfortable," Cas said. Dean turned over obediently, propped up on his elbows and knees. His legs, spread for balance, parted the cheeks of his ass. C as's hand slid from his thigh to his left ass-cheek, pulling it to the side.

Just as Cas's breath puffed over Dean's hole, Sam spoke. "Put a pillow under his hips, Cas. No need to tire him out early."

Castiel took a moment and inhaled the scent of Dean's skin, then leaned back and reached past Dean's head for the pillow. He slid the pillow underneath Dean's hips. "Relax, Dean," he said and coated his index and middle finger in lube. He inserted them carefully into Dean's ass, spreading the lube. He made sure to give Dean's prostate a short rub as he withdrew.

"Good," Sam said, voice husky. "Now, the speculum."

Dean let out a long gust of breath as Castiel picked up the instrument, handling it carefully. "Hold yourself open for me, Dean," Castiel said, and Dean repositioned himself, chest pressed flat to the covers, shoulders taking his weight. He reached back with both hands, and held the cheeks of his ass apart.

The handle of the speculum was cool in Castiel's hand, smooth. The three prongs went smoothly into the cavity of Dean's body, causing the rim of his hole to clench rhythmically as he shuddered. Carefully, Castiel opened the speculum to the first notch.

"God," Dean moaned. Castiel could see his channel flexing, trying to close around the intrusion. Castiel pressed one finger just inside the hole, and traced the inner ring of Dean's sphincter. He could feel the muscle beneath the skin, which gave way to the smooth warm cavity of Dean's colon.

"Open it further," Sam said from the bed. Castiel looked over his shoulder and enjoyed the sight of Sam's hand moving lazily over his cock. Sam's cock was large- easily the largest of the three- and Castiel felt a faint shudder of the same hunger Famine had stirred in him so long ago.

Castiel loosened his tie. He turned his attention back to Dean. When he opened the speculum another notch, the red, clenching flesh of Dean's hole and the broken sound of arousal Dean couldn't hold back was more than enough to keep his attention.

Castiel leaned down, and kissed Dean's left ass-cheek. He opened the speculum further, widening the hole to more than an inch in diameter, and reached his finger inside. The bump of Dean's prostate was just visible between two of the prongs; Castiel deliberately avoided touching any other part of Dean's skin before he inserted two fingers and brushed the pads of his fingers lightly over the tell-tale bump.

Dean jerked. His hips thrust down into the pillow as though trying to get aw ay; his channel tried to close around the speculum. His fingers were clenched tight on his ass cheeks, fingernails digging half-moons into his own flesh. Castiel could see his muscles trying to swell to fill the empty space inside of him. "Guess it makes sense you're an expert in the human body, huh, Cas?" Dean asked, voice punched out and breathy.

"I rebuilt every part of you, Dean," Castiel said and gently circled Dean's prostate. He kept the pressure firm, even- not too hard. Sam had been especially clear on that point. "Every atom, every nerve- every place from which you draw pleasure, I gave back to you. There is nothing of you I don't know." A beat. "Or love."

Castiel could feel Sam's gaze on him, dark and hot. Despite their new-found balance, Sam was still sensitive on the subject of Dean's resurrection. Jealous, Dean had said. He'd laughed, but with sad eyes, and Castiel didn't pry further.

Casually, Castiel withdrew his fingers and opened the speculum further. The light from the sun was bright and saturated the room. With it, he could see all the way into the recesses of Dean's body the tool exposed.

When he reached inside to continue milking Dean's prostate, Sam's voice from the other bed stopped him. "Cas," he said, standing. He'd shed his shirt and his pants were pushed down his hips, the elastic of his underpants pushing his balls upward, pressing toward his cock.

Castiel followed Sam's lead, standing up from the bed. His fingers felt cold, without Dean's heat. He stoo d between the beds and watched as Sam moved behind Dean.

Sam didn't remove the speculum. Instead, he laid his left hand in the small of Dean's back and continued stroking his cock. "Up, Dean," he said and smiled when Dean let go of his ass and moved onto all fours. The pillow beneath his hips was damp, the wetness on the dark patch shining dully. The speculum still held Dean open, inviting, but Castiel could no longer see inside.

Sam bent his cock down, through the hole of the speculum. "You're so open, Dean," he said, fist still moving over his shaft. "I'm inside you right now, and you can't even tell, you're so open."

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean let out and dropped his head down. The planes of his back were smooth, perfect, and his shoulder blades stood out in stark relief. Castiel could see his limbs shake, could imagine his ass trying to clamp down on Sam's cockhead, inside but unfelt. His throat closed up and he couldn't help the hand he dropped down to his own shaft, rubbing himself idly through his pants. He was wetting his undergarments, but didn't reveal himself to the air. Sam had insisted he remain clothed for this joining and he would abide by those rules.

Sam's pace on his cock sped, and his hand moved from Dean's back to his ass and traced the red rim of Dean's hole. His head fell back on his shoulders and he grunted. Castiel could just see his cock swelling, spurting into Dean's gaping hole.

"Oh _god_," Dean cried, and Castiel watched in awe as his body spasmed, rocking back forward and back on Sam's cock, unable to feel the penetration but recognizing the warm, wet feeling of Sam's come coating his insides. Castiel could see Dean's cock, still untouched, dribble a stream of clear, sticky fluid. It hung in the air before slowly dripping down to join the slick already coating the pillow.

Sam drew back, squeezing his cock from base to tip. A slow ooze of semen squeezed out of the tip, which he collected on his fingers with his eyes at half-mast, lazy. "Do you want a taste?" he asked, kneading the liquid between his fingers and thumb.

"'Such a fucking bitch, Sammy," he slurred, looking over his shoulder and eyes obviously tracking the movement of Sam's hand.

Sam raised his brow at Dean's words. "That didn't sound like a yes, Dean. You should know to behave if you want a reward." He turned to Castiel and held out his fingers.

Tentatively, Castiel approached the brothers. He met Sam's dark, heated eyes, and then dropped his eyes to Sam's fingers. He bent his neck and licked at Sam's fingers, tasting Sam's essence, similar yet differen t from Dean's and his own.

"Like a cat," Sam said, eyes heavy. Dean craned his head back, desperate for the sight and moaned when he saw Sam's fingers still in Castiel's mouth, thrusting shallowly.

Castiel reveled in the curl of arousal winding through his body and sucked on Sam's fingers to clean them fully before sliding off with a faint _pop_. Dean let out a moan from the bed and dropped his head back down to hang between his shoulders.

Sam trailed his wet fingers along Castiel's cheek and through the other man's dark hair. He withdrew back to the bed, sitting and leaning back on the bed. He nodded his head back toward Dean.

Castiel turned back toward Dean as well. "Crawl forward, I want to get on the bed behind you," he said.

Dean inched forward carefully, moving slowly so he wouldn't dislodge the speculum still holding him open. Once he was far enough forward, Castiel got onto the bed, sitting on his heels behind Dean. Inside the hole held open by the speculum, Castiel could see Sam's come, white and thick. "What does it feel like?" he asked as he inserted his finger again to massage the bump of Dean's prostate.

"Cold," Dean said, voice hoarse. "It feels cold. Even just the air, is-" he paused for a moment when Castiel pushed down harder, "Is cold. Except- except when Sam's come hit me," he said, and pumped his hips in the air for a moment. "That was so fucking hot. Wet. But now it's just- cold."

"Even with my fingers in there?" Castiel asked, scooping up some of Sam's come and using it as lubrication as he rubbed more firmly into Dean's prostate.

"Fingers are warm," Dean grunted. He shifted on his knees, adjusting his position. Castiel could see his cock, heavy and think, was still drooling out a steady stream of pre-ejaculate. The clear fluid dripped down from his cock, not quite reaching the bed.

Castiel stopped and withdrew his fingers. He reached underneath Dean's body and caught the fluid before it hit the bed, letting it pool in the center of his palm. He turned to look over his shoulder at Sam. "He's going to make a mess," he said and flicked his eyes over to the bag that held the rest of Sam's toys.

Sam stared at Castiel for a moment and then threw his head back and laughed. "You don't need to ask my permission, Cas," he said, cupping his cock, which was starting to harden again. "You can do whatever you want- Dean certainly won't have any objections."

"I could have objections," Dean said. _Bitched_, Castiel thought to himself, enjoying the thought-patterns he'd used as a human.  
>Sam said nothing else but rolled his eyes where Dean couldn't see. Castiel smiled, and reached back into the bag, unrolling a handful of items before he came upon the set he was looking for. He removed it from the bag, and placed it gently on the bed next to himself.<p>

Sam stood up from the other bed and walked to stand behind Castiel. "I'll do it," he said and placed his hand gently on the handle of the speculum. With a deft movement of his hand, the prongs contracted fully into the closed position. He slid the device out slowly, gently and put the speculum on the bedside table for cleaning.

"Jeeze, warn a guy next time," Dean said as he shifted on his knees. His hole, held open for so long, was slow to clench closed.

"On your back, Dean," Castiel said. Dean turned over slowly, an awkward shift with Castiel so close behind him. He propped himself up on his elbows once he was finished and stared down the line of his body at Castiel.

Castiel opened the case that held the second, uncurved set of sounds Sam had shown him. Toward the headboard, Dean's breath caught and his cock twitched and spurted again.

"He loves to watch," Sam said, climbing onto the bed behind Dean, back pressed flush to the headboard. He gave Castiel a stern look. "Are your hands clean?"

Castiel blinked and with a touch of his power- an abuse he wouldn't have dared, before- cleaned his hands. "They are now," he said, picking up one of the shorter sounds.

Not wasting any time, Castiel grabbed Dean's cock and angled it straight out from his body. He held the sound carefully between his thumb and index finger with his right hand and squeezed Dean's cockhead with his left. The thin slit of Dean's urethra peaked open at the pressure. Slowly, Castiel lowered the head of the sound to the slit and pushed the rounded tip inside.

Dean moaned, eyes riveted on the sound just poking out of his cock. When Castiel pressed the sound further inside, his legs began to shake. Castiel released Dean's cock and used his hand to keep Dean's hips flush to the bed. There was no need to take the risk of Dean thrusting up and impaling his cock on the sound too quickly.

Methodically, Castiel pressed the sound completely into Dean's cock. He watched the line of the sound descend, through the urethra, as an obvious bulge along the underside of Dean's shaft. When Castiel looked up, Sam's hand was placed solidly on Dean's pectoral, helping to ground the other man. "It'll stay in place?" Castiel asked. He ran the pad of his thumb over the head of Dean's cock, over the exposed end of the sound.

"It'll stay," Sam said. His eyes were locked on Dean's cock, hungry. The sounds had been the first tools Sam had shown to Castiel. His voice, when he'd spoken of them, had been unaccountably fond.

Dean was the reason they were playing this particular game, but Sam was why there were three separate sounding kits in the bag, despite the high risk for infection.

"Good," Castiel said, and picked up the discarded bottle of lube. He coated his fingers with the slick liquid and pushed his index and middle finger into Dean. Without the speculum, the walls of Dean's ass clung to Castiel's fingers, tight, hot and familiar. Castiel curled his fingers upward and found Dean's prostate again. "You're going to come from my fingers in you, Dean. With your cock stuffed so you can't make a mess of yourself, you're going to come, and Sam and I are going to watch you."

"Fuck, Cas," Dean breathed out, eyes open and locked on Castiel's face. Castiel pressed harder, and watched Dean's head fall back onto Sam's shoulder. "I can't- I won't be able to _come_," he whined, desperate.

"You will," Castiel said and leaned down to lick at Dean's balls, tight against his body. He rubbed Dean's prostate harder, fingers circling the organ. He nudged Dean's balls out of the way, and licked a stripe up Dean's perineum.

Around his ears, Dean's thighs shook. When he raised his eyes up the line of Dean's body, he could see Sam's hand had moved to pinching Dean's nipple, toying with it almost idly.

Castiel straightened his body, and began rocking his fingers into Dean, barely thrusting them. Dean feet dug into the mattress, pushed him up like he was trying to get away. Castiel followed the motion of Dean's body diligently.

"It's a sweet sound, isn't it, Cas," Sam asked. His left hand was jacking his cock, awkwardly, behind Dean's back. "His ass so loose, so wet- can you feel my come up inside him? Wet like a girl, you'd be soaked just like that pillow by now if we hadn't plugged you up, wouldn't you, Dean?"

Cas kept his fingers moving, making sure never to lose contact with Dean's prostate. Dean had started to whimper, a punched out, breathy whine escaping his throat every few seconds. When Castiel inserted a third finger, he bucked his hips up, desperate.

"Please, Cas, Sammy, _fuck_, I need- touch me, my cock's so _full_, I can't- I can't come, I need to come, _please_," he begged, eyes shut tight.

"Watch, Dean," Cas said quietly, speeding his pace slightly. His own breath was coming faster, now, watching Dean fall apart under his hands. "I want you to watch yourself come for me."

A high, desperate sound wound its way out from Dean's throat, and he opened his eyes, shifting his gaze desperately between Castiel, his own cock and what little he could see of Sam, behind him. "I need-" he said, almost inaudible. "I need-"

"I know what you need, Dean," Sam said, and let go of Dean's nipple to tangle his fingers in Dean's pubic hair, pressing against the base of Dean's cock with the skin between his thumb and index finger. "You need permission. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Dean moaned, rolling his hips up in the air, as though desperate to get more of the sound into him, "Yes, please, Cas, let me come, please, Cas, please."

Sam met Castiel's eyes from over Dean's shoulder. "What do you say, Cas? Do you think Dean's been good enough? Does he get to come?"

Castiel could feel his own cock, untouched, begging for attention. "Yes," he said.

Before he could get another word out, Dean arched and shouted his release. His untouched cock spasmed, and come started leaking out past the sound, sliding down Dean's shaft. Castiel kept massaging Dean's prostate, harder now, and watched Dean's cock continue to spasm, more than he'd ever seen from a male ejaculate- enough to cover Dean's cock in it, making the whole thing shiny and wet.

With a soft, broken sound, Dean collapsed back onto the bed, body loose, trembling and exhausted. His ass kept spasming around Castiel's fingers, clenching up again and again, until the tremors stopped.

Castiel withdrew his fingers. He wiped them clean on his shirt and reached for Dean's cock, withdrawing the sound. Dean let out a quiet sound of- pleasure? pain, after that orgasm?- at the sound, and turned his head into Sam's shoulder, as though hiding from the sensation.

Castiel palmed the sound, and leaned back from the bed.

The theme music for Dr. Sexy played in the background. It seemed Dean had been watching a marathon.


	2. After The Credits

Warnings: basically a not-very-serious draft.

Angels are not prone to selfishness. Taking a vessel does not change that, does not weaker their spirits as some would claim. Castiel knows that any taint an angel brings upon himself is purely the fault of the angel, rather than an innate flaw in God's favoured children.

Castiel does not think of himself as selfish. Not usually, at least.

With Dean, it was easy. Loving Dean was like a reflex, involentary, something that happened naturally with long-term exposure. To know Dean was to love him, and Castiel knew Dean better than almost anyone. Loving Dean was pure, clean and easy.

Sam was different. Dangerous- an abomination. He did more than any one human should have been able to do, reshaping the world around him without knowledge or intent. If Dean was the sun, Sam was the black hole at the center of this galaxy, all-consuming, unconcerned with the laws the rest of the universe followed.

Sam made Castiel feel selfish. Unfamiliar urges swept through him when Sam was near, sweeping them all into his wake. Sam made Castiel _hunger_, and sex between the three of them burned Castiel on a level he'd never known.

Dean was soothing, but Sam- Sam was an irritant. He chaffed.

It was irrational, but some part of Castiel was sure if he could just get _more_ of Sam, he'd be soothed. Satisfied.

Castiel knew that for the lie it was. He was an angel and had seen this kind of fascination before, though always from the outside. Sam's presence was an irresistable force, and Castiel had proven time and again he was not an immovable object.

Dean had fallen asleep to the calming touch of his brother's fingers through his hair and didn't stir when Sam gently extracted himself from the tangle of their bodies on the bed. Sam walked to the bathroom on soft feet, and returned with a damp washcloth, which he used to clean the mess from Dean's cock, now flacid. Castiel watched and didn't move, unsure of his place here, in the aftermath.

[break]

"You're- attracted to me?" Sam asked, surprise colouring his voice.

Castiel faltered. "Well. Yes. You're very," he gestured at the chiseled planes of Sam's chest. "Defined. And large."

Sam laughed at that, incredulous. "Are you saying you're a _size queen_?"

"I didn't say that," Castiel was quick to divert, making a note to ask Dean- or better yet, the internet- just what a "size queen" was, though he was very sure he did not wish to be labled one. "But masculine beauty is something I appreciate." He was not talking about Dean, but Sam's eyes cut over to his brother, assessing, before he nodded.

"It's easier with him," Sam said, echoeing Castiel's thoughts so perfectly that Castiel startled, head tilting as he considered Sam.

"For us it is," Castiel agreed, and moved forward. With gentle hands, he pushed Sam back on the bed, and swung his leg over so that he stradled Sam's thighs. "It would behoove us to make it easier on him, as well." He leaned forward at pressed his lips, always too dry, to Sam's. It was light, nearly chaste- but the touch, their first kiss, set a low fire ablaze under Castiel's skin, between the barrier of his own essence and the body of flesh circumstance had granted as his own.

Sam's face was blank- not rejection, but neither was it acceptance, and Castiel wondered if this could work, if the three of them would _ever_ be able to fit together the way Dean seemed to long for with such depth.

He was startled out of his thoughts as Sam surged upward, flipping Castiel onto his back easily and braced himself above Castiel, the blankness on his face replaced with a strange mix of curiosity and thank God, thank_God_, arousal.

Cas's cock stirred in his pants, bellying any delusion he may have tried to tell himself, that he did not want this- want Sam- for himself.

Sam ran his hand down the center of Castiel's chest, the press of each button, each seam, setting the nerves beneath ablaze. He didn't go further than the line of Cas' belt, but let his fingertips rest on the buckle, before raising his gaze to meet Castiel's eyes. "I don't- Dean's a special case. I don't usually," he ducked his head, an unusual but highly becoming flush gracing his cheeks, "do this with other guys."

Castiel was quite sure that Sam hadn't meant those words to arouse, but Castiel's cock apparently had no care for intent. His spine went loose, easy, even as the coil of heat in his gut tightened further. "Then we are in a similar situation. I had no one, before Dean."

Sam smiled, a gente light shining in his eyes. "Yeah." The light turned on Castiel, heating as it rose to the surface. A smirk twisted his lips and he reached out and gripped Castiel's cock. He rubbed his finger roughly over the head: if not for the precome smeared inside, it would have chaffed. "You've been so patient," he purred, darkly. "Making a mess in your pants, playing with my brother. Staying hard after he's too fucked out to keep going, just waiting for me to take you there, is that it?"

Castiel moaned low, in the back of his throat, and shifted his hands back to grip Sam's thighs for leverage as he thrust his cock into Sam's grip. "Sam," he croaked, and tried to clear his throat. He felt Sam's thighs surge beneath him, strong as a man, strong like so many leaders Castiel had watched shape the world's nations. "We'll wake Dean-"

Sam laughed, and shifted his grip to cup Castiel's balls. "Dean won't wake up till tomorrow," he said. He unbuttoned Castiel's pants, and tugged the zipper apart, reaching inside to pull Castiel out from the slit of his boxers. "Even if he did, he wouldn't mind being awake for this." He drew Castiel forward with a hand on the small of his back, until their cocks were lined up. "He'd see us like this, and probably beg to be fucked before he even woke up." Sam's hand moved down to Castiel's buttocks, gripping it firmly. "He loves to be fucked," Sam said, as though sharing a secret. "You'll see- he'll come on your cock and beg for more. You gonna be like Dean, Cas? You gonna beg us for cock?"

Castiel shuddered under Sam's hand, and raised his head at Sam's words. He thought about it for a moment. "No," he decided, and grabbed Sam's hand, slamming it down to the bed. Sam's eyes widened, not expecting the sudden show of strength. "If I want something- if I want your _cock_, I'll take it." That said, he straightened and shifted forward, so he was perched on Sam's hips, his testicles resting hotly on Sam's own. He curled his fingers around Sam's, so much larger than his own, large enough to hold both their cocks in his palm, and squeezed. His eyes fell to half mast and he drew back, fucking his cock along Sam's.

Sam let out a soft _Fuck_, and tightened his grip. With Castiel's weight resting on his hips, he couldn't thrust up, pinned to the bed. With a vicious snarl, he dragged Castiel's pants down, over his rump, and thrust two fingers into Cas' ass. "You'll take what I give you," Sam said, angry, even as his cock throbbed next to Castiel's.

Castiel kept thrusting, even as Sam found a spot inside him- his prostate, _beauty_, it was wonderful- using the force of Sam's fingers to set his pace. "I will take what I want," he grit out and then spat onto their cocks. "You have no control over that." His eyes slammed shut and he finally came, wetting their hands. He didn't stop his motions, ignoring the cries of his body to _rest_, determined to bring Sam with him.

Sam's eyes snapped over to Dean, a brief look of uncertainty crossing his face as Castiel's cock failed to soften, as he used his weight to press down further, so Sam had no reprieve from the pressure. A shattered look crossed his face before his orgasm struck, stealing the breath from his lungs. His muscles trembled beneath Cas's weight, like a racing horse beaten too long and only allowed to collapse once it crossed the finish line.

There were only a few moments of silence, and then Sam spoke. "Dean could make you want it, Cas. He has control over that."

Castiel ran his fingers idly through the mess of their come, rubbing it into Sam's skin, then his own. Quietly, he replied. "I already said we were in a similar situation, Sam. You do not need to spell out what I already know."

Sam jerked back, and pushed Castiel aside. With a motion too calm to be natural, he slid into the bed where Dean sSlept on, oblivious. He didn't look at Cas, nor did he reply.

Still. Dean would be pleased- they'd made progress, tonight.

Tomorrow would be Castiel's turn to show Sam what Dean liked. He was looking forward to it.


	3. Privates Practice

Castiel, if asked, would say he does not need the help of tools to make Dean fall to pieces. This is a lie- his vessel is his tool, without which he would not be able to interact with Dean as he does now. He claims he does not need tools because Sam so clearly favours them- cuffs and cloth and sounds, all purchased and lovingly cared for to bring (and keep) Dean on his knees.

Castiel would say that he has no quarrel with Sam, that he has not set himself up diametrically to Sam's method; these are lies.

Dean is not a man to be comforted by lies.

Dean doesn't stop smiling all day, charming witnesses, waitresses, and Winchesters alike. Sam spends most of the day staring at his brother and fighting the giddy feeling which is so contagious, coming from Dean.

Castiel watches them, sometimes visible, sometimes not. When he shows himself to Dean, the sun which is Dean's smile somehow manages to widen; even Sam can't bring himself to glower as he was wont to do in Castiel's presence. Castiel does not spend much time trying to dissect the strange expression which instead occupies Sam's visage. He knows what Sam has begun to see when he looks at him- what Castiel has started to see when he looks at Sam.

Dean acts as though he's been handed everything he could ever ask for. He is unguarded; he is magnificent. Castiel would not do anything to cloud such joy, even if the frost between himself and Sam had not thawed.

_Thaw is a mild word for such heat_, he cannot help but think. He is hidden, and watches while Dean exits the Impala to book the three of them a room.

"We should work more closely together, tonight," Castiel says quietly. He is sitting in the back seat of the Impala, and keeps the smirk to himself as Sam jumps and spins around to face him.

Sam scowls, but it is almost entirely out of habit. "If you think that since we could get along well enough to fuck, we can just snap into a united front?"

Castiel stares hard at Sam and his essence fills the car, smothering against even his skin, an automatic response to Sam's challenge. "I think that if we don't, your brother will be disappointed." He watches the hairs on Sam's arms stand up straight. "I would prefer to keep him happy for as long as possible."

Sam deflates, and slumps back against his seat, face turned away from Castiel. He sighs, unbuckles his safety belt and steps out of the car. When he stretches, his hands seem to stretch beyond the tops of the trees- but that is merely an illusion of the angle Castiel is watching from. He follows Sam out of the car.

"It's your night," Sam says, voice quiet as he watches the office building for Dean. "What are you thinking?"

Castiel breaths in deep, feels the rush as oxygen pumps through his human blood cells. "First, we must do away with the competitive nature our nights together have taken on. Neither of us wins- and more importantly, neither does Dean, when we act in such a way. Tonight I would like for the two of us to work together."

Sam keeps his eyes trained on the office, but his focus rests solely on Castiel. "You have something specific in mind?"

Castiel smiles and rests his left hand on the Impala's trunk, over Sam's bag. "I do," he says.

Dean recognizes intent when he sees it, and doesn't waste time once they open the door to their room, dropping his bag and stripping off his shirt in brisk efficient motions. Castiel's eyes are intent on Dean's motions as he disrobes; the hunter tries to hide his smile, but Castiel catches repeated glimpses of it, hidden behind his shirt and angled away as he slides his pants down his legs.

Castiel exchanges a glance with Sam, and is surprised by how fond the look feels. It seems naive, but Dean's joy is contagious, spreading amongst the three of them with ease. Sam settles himself on the bed closest to the door and starts to unlace his boots, in no hurry.

"Sam is going to watch us," Castiel explains, and feels a rush of pride and arousal at how Dean's pupils expand at his words. The blush that spreads across Dean's cheeks as he glances as Sam, almost bashful, warms Castiel's heart and causes his gut to clench pleasantly. With a thought, he is naked, and his lips quirk up into a smirk as Dean darts his eyes back and forth between Sam and himself.

"I didn't know you were the type to want an audience," Dean jokes and reaches out to grip lightly at Castiel's shoulder, and falls back onto the bed, bringing Castiel with him.

Castiel nudges Dean further up the bed and rests his hand on Dean's upper thigh, a light pressure just barely hinting at the command to spread. Dean settles himself against the motel's pillows and opens his legs so that Castiel can stay cradled between them comfortably. "I'm not," Castiel says. He tips Dean's chin away from Sam, toward himself. His thumb presses into the hollow in Dean's chin and he smiles. "You, on the other hand?" Castiel laughs, quietly. "I want you to close your eyes Dean. And to keep them that way."

Pressed together as close as they are, Castiel can feel it against his belly as Dean's cock twitches. Dean stares at Castiel and draws a deep, shuddering breath in. His eyes close and he smirks. "You got a surprise in store for me, huh?" he asks.

Castiel leans forward and presses his lips to Dean's in a gentle kiss. Dean's eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, a dark fan against pale skin, but he keeps them closed. Castiel's lips are continually chapped and he wets them with Dean's spit, sucks and nibbles Dean's lips. He slants a glance at Sam as he deepens the kiss and pushes his tongue into Dean's mouth.

Sam has his boots off and his shirt untucked. He nods to Castiel, still happy to abide by their agreement, and Castiel fucks Dean's mouth a few more times before he withdraws.

Dean lets out a low sound of protest and keeps Castiel close by his shoulders, chasing Castiel's mouth. His neck strains closer, stretching it out sharply until his Adam's apple peeks sharply out from his skin.

Castiel reaches between them and presses a finger between their lips. Dean, goal oriented as he is, sucks the finger into his mouth. He shouldn't be able to smirk as he sucks, but somehow Dean manages it. Castiel feels a familiar surge of fondness and withdraws his hand from Dean's mouth. "What are you thinking?" Castiel asks quietly. He smoothes his hand down Dean's neck and over his shoulder. He stops just before his hand meets his mark on Dean's shoulder and shivers as his skin prickles at the proximity.

"I think you're a tease." As he speaks, Dean sneaks his hand down between their bodies and grips Castiel's cock in a firm grip. Castiel closes his eyes at the feeling, basking in the contact, but snaps them open again before he can become distracted.

"You like being teased," Castiel replied. He allowed Dean to continue petting his cock for a moment and then moved his right hand a scant few inches lower on Dean's shoulder, slotting it into place over his mark. Dean's hand freezes on his cock and his eyes fly open as they roll back in his head, green visible for just a moment before his lids hide them once more. "Don't you, Dean?"

"Jesus Christ, Cas," Dean says, voice breathy. He hand speeds on Castiel's cock and he pants with harsh breaths, as though it is his own cock he's gripping tight. Dean's hips thrust upward jerkily, and the scent of his arousal fills the air around them, spilled from his cock in a clear liquid.  
>Castiel rubs the fingers of his left hand along the crown of Dean's cock and gathers the fluid. He holds out his hand in demonstration to Sam, working the clear substance between his finger tips. "Try not to take the Lord's name in vain," Castiel says casually and jams his sticky fingers into Dean's mouth.<p>

Sam's gaze is bright and intent upon them when Castiel looks over, his shirt off and his pants unbuttoned. He's stroking his cock absently in one hand, the other placed firmly on the roll Castiel didn't notice him removing from his bag.

Regretfully, Castiel removes his hand from its place on Dean's shoulder. Dean sags, and Castiel's fingers slide deeper into his mouth, far enough that Castiel wonders idly if he will set off Dean's seldom-seen gag reflex. He withdraws his fingers slowly and kisses Dean, a brush of lips meant more to comfort than arouse.

Then Castiel grips Dean firmly, lifts and spins, until he is beneath Dean, his chest pressed to Dean's back.

"Whoa!" Dean scrambles at the shift in position, knees digging into the covers as he straddles Castiel's thighs. Castiel places his hands on Dean's hips to steady him. He leans forward and runs his nose along the line of Dean's neck and breaths in his scent. He darts his tongue out and tastes, stomach tense and cock hard. He tilts Dean backward so the hunter's shoulder blades are pressed against his chest, his back an attractive curve.

"Feet out and up, Dean," Castiel says. He moves one hand from Dean's hip and rests it on the arch of his foot, moving it forward gently so that Dean's feet are pressed flat to the bed, splayed over top Castiel's legs.

"You watching, Sammy?" Dean asks, head turned blindly toward his brother. His voice doesn't show it, but Castiel can feel the faint tremor that shakes through his thighs, invisible to the eye.

"I'm watching," Sam confirms. He bends his head down and spits, deliberately loud, onto his cock. The spit rolls down his cock slowly, thickly, until Sam stops it with his hand and strokes his cock. "Can you hear what I'm doing?" The wet sounds of masturbation fill the air, and Castiel spreads his hand out on Dean's soft underbelly.

"Yeah," Dean breaths. His chest rises and falls with his breath and he presses closer to Castiel, his legs spreading wider, his hips tilting up. "You like what you see?"

Castiel slides his hands down until the tips of his fingers brush against the edge of Dean's pubic hair. "You know he does, Dean. But he's not the one who's going to fuck you tonight; I want your attention on me." He leans forward and sucks a mark onto Dean's throat.

Dean makes a low sound of protest and uses his feet to thrust his hips up and then settles. He shoves himself back against Castiel, hard enough that were Castiel limited by human strength he would be forced backward. He keeps himself steady and smiles at Dean's squirms. The motions remind Castiel of a litter of over puppies he had once encountered in a barn, excited and desperate to please.

"Don't think," Castiel says. He slowly lets his hand drift through Dean's pubic hair and curls two fingers and his thumb around Dean's cock, creating a loose ring. He lets his other two fingers press into the loose skin of Dean's sack. "Feel."

Dean sighs, tenses once, and relaxes.  
>His hips thrust up into the motion of Castiel's hand, shallowly. Castiel smiles and brings his other hand up Dean's leg, taps his finger to the head of Dean's cock and lifts it to Dean's mouth. Dean opens as he always does and sucks on Castiel's fingers, wetting them happily. Castiel thrusts his fingers in and presses down on Dean's tongue for a moment before letting his fingers relax. Dean's mouth takes over, tongue lapping at the pads of Castiel's fingers. His mouth floods with saliva.<p>

"Do you think you can get my fingers wet enough we can forego lubricant?" Castiel asks.

Dean makes a faint sound of agreement, deep in his throat. His throat spasms and the slicker texture of mucous coats Castiel's fingers, thick and viscous.

"Perfect," Castiel says. He cups his fingers and withdraws them coated in slick. His lowers his hand before the spit can start to dry and slots his fingers into Dean's hole. He lets go of Dean's cock and brings his other hand to Dean's mouth and lets Dean suck to his heart's content, fucking in at both ends. Dean's hole clings to his fingers greedily. His insides are soft, relaxed and welcoming; it is a result of Castiel and Sam's thorough dedication to his comfort, but Castiel likes to imagine that it is reflective of Dean's feelings. (He is, perhaps, a romantic at heart.)

Castiel switches hands and spreads the makeshift lubricant around the edges of Dean's hole. He has learned the reactions of Dean's body well in these last months, and doesn't waste time teasing Dean once his hole is loose enough. "Lean forward, Dean." Castiel lifts Dean's body up for a moment until his cock is pressed up underneath Dean's body. It slots into place between Dean's legs, pushing Dean's testicles to either side. Dean grinds down onto Castiel's cock even as he twists his body so his head is over Castiel's shaft and spits again, mimicking Sam's motion of minutes before.

The string of saliva hangs from Dean's mouth, elastic with mucous. The end of the string hits Castiel's shaft, unerringly on target given Dean's closed eyes, and Dean works his mouth hard to keep the strand going. Castiel reaches around Dean and grips his cock in one hand, tilting it up so that as more of Dean's spit falls, it lands on the head of his cock. He takes Dean's hand in his and places it onto his erection and urges Dean's hand into motion, spitting down and spreading the slick with his own hand.

Dean spits and the line of saliva cuts off, dropping down with a cool plop onto Castiel's cock. Dean pushes himself up on his knees immediately and uses his grip on Castiel's cock to position at his hole. He presses the head of Castiel's cock to his rim and pushes down.

Castiel catches hold of Dean's hips before more than the head of his cock breaches Dean's ass. "Easy," Castiel says. Dean strains against his grip, pushing down against Castiel's hands and keens when it doesn't gain him so much as a millimeter more of penetration.

"Fuck, Cas, come on," Dean grits out, voice tight and high. He tries to lift off, to bounce- but Castiel's hands are firm, immovable. He likes the feeling of Dean squirming on his cock, desperate for more.

He smiles and drops Dean.

Dean falls with a shout, impaled on Castiel's entire cock in one quick, rough motion. He pushes himself up immediately, rising half way off Castiel's cock as his hole clenches spastically around Castiel.

Castiel lets him flail, eyes at half-mast as Dean inadvertently fucks himself on Castiel's cock. He rocks his hips shallowly into Dean, waiting for Dean to find his own prostate. It's obvious when it happens; every part of Dean freezes except for his hole, which flutters wildly around Castiel's cock. He bounces slightly on his knees, rubbing his prostate on Castiel's cock with no concern for anything else.

Dean's lack of attention shows clearly when Dean fails to notice Sam's approach. He shouts out and falls back fully onto Castiel's cock when Sam sucks Dean's cock straight into his mouth.

"S-Sam?" Dean moans, fingers carding through his brother's hair. A string of high vowels fall from his lips as Sam works him into his mouth, and his hips snap forward and back, torn between fucking Castiel's cock and Sam's mouth.

Sam takes the decision out of his hands by pulling off. He meets Castiel's gaze over Dean's shoulder and holds up one of his mid-sized Pratt sounds. Sam kisses the tip of Dean's shaft once and then pinches the head of Dean's cock, opening the slit of his urethra. He doesn't hesitate, long-familiar with the process, and inserts the sound into the head of Dean's cock.

"Such a pretty cock," Sam coos. He pushes the sound in with shallow, steady motions; it disappears into Dean's quick faster than Castiel would have thought possible, less than half an inch visible from the end. The shaft of Dean's looks swollen and huge, and Sam makes a hungry mewl and takes Dean back into his mouth.

"Oh my god," Dean says, bucking wildly. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut and his mouth is slack. Castiel gently takes Dean's hands in his own and intertwines their fingers; it is a gentle motion, but Castiel's grip is firm, pinning Dean's hands down to the bed.

Dean's breathe pants from his lips like rapid gunfire. Castiel watches as Sam swallows Dean down to the root, sound and all. With Sam's face pressing so firmly against his front and Castiel tucked snugly against his back, Dean is trapped- trapped between Castiel and Sam and the pleasure they give him.

"You wanted us to work together, Dean," Castiel whispers into Dean's ear, his voice low with arousal. Dean's channel flutters around him and Castiel rocks forward, fucking at them both. "Is this what you imagined?"

Dean doesn't answer for a long moment, caught up in their attentions. His voice, when it comes, is wrecked; it wobbles with arousal and a strange note of uncertainty. "I could never imagine t_his_," he gasps. His back arches and his hips rock back and forth, desperate for any hint of movement.

If he could, Castiel would keep him like this, safe between them, forever.


End file.
